


A silent stream of sand (summer 1976)

by themistyeyeofthemountain



Series: Stop all the clocks [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts Era, Post-Prank, Post-Prank summer, Pre-Slash, Summer 1976
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:18:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3276452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themistyeyeofthemountain/pseuds/themistyeyeofthemountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Moony,<br/>Don't worry too much, nothing bad happened. Well, actually, it kind of did, but it's mostly alright now. See, Sirius... well, he ran away from home yesterday and knocked at my door last night. [...] You're always the only one who can calm him, and I really feel terrible about asking you to help me dealing with my best friend considering the circumstances, but he's asleep right now and he's called your name thrice already. So. It would be great if you came as soon as possible. Maraudering emergency here, Moons."</p><p>The summer after their fifth year, and one month and three days after the Prank - he's been counting. Sometimes, only a broken boy can help a drowning one. Or how forgiving is a lot easier when the other person has been Crucio'd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A silent stream of sand (summer 1976)

James' letter arrives on a Thursday morning, three weeks after the end of their fifth school year. Remus and him have been writing to each other almost every day, mostly because Remus still feels horrible for the Prank, as they've come to call it, even though it wasn't his fault in the slightest and every bit Sirius', and James knows his friend must be having nightmares – _human scent flesh blood and hunger_ \- every time he closes his eyes (he's been writing to Lily too, but James doesn't know that). But this Thursday, it's six in the morning when the Potters' owl scratches at his bedroom window, and James is even less a morning person than Remus is, so the latter just grumbles by principle, but leaps out of bed and opens the window nevertheless. He gently ruffles the owl's head while unfolding the letter.

“ _Moony,_

_Don't worry too much, nothing bad happened. Well, actually, it kind of did, but it's mostly alright now. See, Sirius... well, he ran away from home yesterday and knocked at my door last night. He was bleeding, and he had a black eye (har har har) and a split lip. Now he's alright, but this mad family of his really damaged him this time, Rem. My mum healed him, and I tried to talk to him, but he won't say anything. He has this look in his eyes, you know, the one he always has when we meet up at King's Cross after the summer, but now it's a thousand times worse, and he flinches every time someone goes near him. You're always the only one who can calm him, and I really feel terrible about asking you to help me dealing with my best friend considering the circumstances, but he's asleep right now and he's called your name thrice already. So. It would be great if you came as soon as possible. If you can't make it, owl me now and my dad will come for you. Maraudering emergency here, Moons._

_Prongs”_

 

Remus' breath hitches. He knows Sirius has problems with his family; but it seems they've crossed a new line here. He hasn't forgiven Sirius (or has tried not to), hasn't heard of him since the end of the year, and his treason hurts as much as it did a month ago; but all is quickly drowned by concern. If James asks him to come and deal with Sirius when he perfectly knows how Remus feels it's because there's no option. He gets quickly dressed up, before knocking on his parents' bedroom door. After a few moments, his mother opens it, bleary-eyed.

“- Remus? What happened? What time is it?

\- Six, Mum. I'm sorry, but James just sent this,” he says handing his mother the letter. He knows explanations would be too long and complicated, and is just glad James didn't refer to the Prank in it. Hope furrows his brow through her perusal, and finally looks up at her son.

“- Well. It seems this can't be helped. You'll have to pack things up for a few days, I suppose?”

Remus is so grateful his mother is being understanding that he launches himself at her neck.

“- Yeah. Don't worry about the rest, I'll use the Floo... if we still have powder, that is.”

Hope Lupin shakes her head.

“- No, I'll have to Apparate you there.” He should have known Floo powder would be too expensive to have some at home. So he just smiles at her and runs to his room to pack a change of clothes, some chocolate bars and _Crime and Punishment_ , which he was reading before going to bed. He meets Hope at the portal of their garden's fence, as their house, like the vast majority of wizarding homes, can't be Apparated into or from.

A firm grip of the hand and a sucking, dizzying sensation and they are in front of the so-called Potter Manor that looks way more like an over-sized cottage than a proper mansion, but then the Potters never were conventional Purebloods. James has apparently been looking out for them, because they haven't made more than three steps towards the door before it is flung open by a human bolide looking very much like a teenager with pyjamas and glasses askew, who doesn't stop running until he collides with Remus and holds him in a bone-crushing embrace.

“- Merlin's beard, James, are you all right?”

James takes a step back and holds him at arms' length, tanned hands on bony shoulders and hazel eyes locked with amber ones.

“- Moony, are _you_ okay? You never answered when I asked how the full had been, and it was last week!”

Remus feels his mother stiffen beside him, even though Hope already knows her son's friends don't ignore his condition. James scans him, taking in the slightly tense posture, the bags under the eyes and the ugly new pink scar peeking from under the t-shirt collar, at the place where the right shoulder connects with the neck. They exchange a glance, knowing James' parents are already coming towards them, five years of friendship showing up in the mute conversation they're having. James and Sirius may be brothers and seem to share a brain, and the latter and Remus be impossibly close, but all of them are, after all, Marauders, and silent communication is one of their oldest abilities.

_\- How was it, really?_

_\- Bad._

James winces and crooks an eyebrow.

_\- As bad as...?_

_\- No._ Remus lets out a mirthless laugh. _It could never be that bad. But then, It was a new record. Hard to beat it, you know_. He passes a hand over the deep silvery scar that goes from his left cheekbone to the collarbone, the most visible mark of this night they all wish they could take back.

Guilt flares through James' eyes and Remus immediately hugs him.

“- Prongs, you saved me, you saved all of us. I owe you one on this, you know,” he murmurs again his friend's ear before pulling back to salute Mr and Mrs Potter, who manage to look almost as happy to see him as their son.

“- Remus, dear! Look at you, all grown up!” coos Mrs. Potter, hugging him fiercely before patting his cheek. James sighs.

“- Mum, you saw him at King's Cross a month ago.”

“- No insolence, young man, if you please! And Mrs. Lupin! How are you?”

Remus smilingly shakes Mr. Potter's hand and then turns to his mother, when his whole being just wants to get to James' room and see Sirius. Hope guesses it, and she Apparates away after a few words of thanks to the Potters and a pat on his head. James immediately grabs his wrist and bounces towards the house while Mrs. Potter shouts something about “being gentle to the poor boy”, neither exactly knowing whether she's referring to Remus or Sirius.

“- So. He arrived here last night, eleven o'clock maybe. Said he'd taken the Knight Bus as far as he could, but he hadn't enough money to do the whole trip,” James explains as they walk briskly towards his room.

“- And what about his broom? Couldn't he fly over there?

\- He had to carry his trunk with him. Couldn't shrink it, what with the Underage Law and everything,” he huffs. Remus smirks; the boys have always protested the law shouldn't be applied to minors coming from a -at least partly- wizarding family. He has tried to explain multiple times how unfair it would be to the Muggle-born students and how irrational the whole idea is, but the Black-Potter duo can be as thick-headed as a wall, and the voice of reason is often a most unwelcome one to them.

“- So he... he _walked_?

\- Yeah.

\- How long?

\- He wasn't sure, but he said approximately twenty miles.” Remus hisses.

“- Bloody hell. But you wrote he wouldn't say anything!

\- Well, that was pretty much everything he said. Really, Moony, he didn't utter more than five sentences. He fell asleep some three hours ago, and I sent the owl soon after, the third time he muttered your name in his sleep, actually.”

They are almost at James' bedroom when the door opens and Sirius appears on the threshold.

“- Remus?” Sirius' voice breaks at the end of the name. “I... I heard your voice.”

Remus stops dead in his track. The boy looks more than simply tired. He seems...broken. As if the layers of self-confidence, aplomb and joie de vivre had been torn to shreds to reveal the battered boy underneath. Remus has already seen him without his armour, when in the dead of night the hangings around his bed are drawn open to let Sirius in, wan and trembling, murmuring _“Moony, I can't sleep”_ ; when the weight of so many generations, of so many traditions and expectations threatens to crush him. But now, _this_ Sirius... there is something in his eyes, something Remus recognizes at once as an old friend he often sees in the mirror, hidden in the depths of his honey gaze but always, _always_ present. It is fear. Pure, animal fear, and the wolf inside of him can smell it too.

\- Sirius...” Remus resumes his walk towards the boy, feeling James' eyes on him. _Relax, Potter. I'm not one to fuck this up_. At last, he can't help himself and pulls Sirius in a tight embrace, the latter's forehead resting against his shoulder, one hand curled in tangled black hair, the other enclosing the boy's waist. He can feel Sirius trembling now, and the part of his brain that never shuts up no matter what can't help but notice they're the same height now. Four weeks of holidays seem to do wonders. He closes his eyes and takes in this closeness they haven't experienced for ages.

“- Sirius... oh, gods, Padfoot, I'm here now, it's okay, I'm here...”

Remus quietly manhandles Sirius into the room, casting an apologetic look at James, who just shakes his head and smiles. They both now there will come a time when he plays his role of brother, making Slytherins' lives miserable, clapping manly at one another's shoulder and laughing and rejoicing of the general thing, a time of voices and noises and laughter and general red-and-gold brotherhood. But now is the time of quietness and warmth, of unsaid words and unspoken yet tangible apologies, of not-yet-forgiveness and pleading and reassuring looks and not being Remus and Sirius but the unit they sometimes are, this remusirius thing Peter and James tease them about without really meaning it because they know the two of them sometimes only feel whole when the other is around. James and him both know that each of them somehow has half of this beautiful, fragile boy's heart, and that sometimes one of them has to take care of the whole of it, because the balance is broken and Sirius is staggering at the edge of the dark pit his own family and duality have dug for him.

They sit on James' bed, Sirius' face still pressed against the crook of his neck and Remus' arms loosely draped around the him, his thumb drawing mindless circles on Sirius' shoulder. Both of them quietly breathe each other's scent. Remus faintly smells of chocolate and sleep -after all, he woke up twenty minutes ago-, and of something Padfoot recognizes as the wolf, hidden beneath the layers of bookworm teenager. Sirius is made of rain and earth and dog, and Remus has to close his eyes to prevent the tears forming in them. This, this is better than apologies and explanations, it is relearning something they both thought they'd lost forever, it is the promise of a fresh start, of a future the wrong words said to the wrong person had crushed.

Time drifts quietly away, a silent stream of sand through the hourglass, and sitting on a bed a broken boy is trying to save a drowning one.

At last Sirius moves and slowly disentangles himself to sit on the bed, facing Remus, though his eyes keep averting the golden ones and his fingers restlessly prod a loose thread on the heavy, half-tossed blanket that covers the bed. Remus just keeps looking, waiting for him to be ready, though he doesn't expect the heavy, gut-wrenching sob that suddenly shakes Sirius' whole body.

“- It's not fair, Moony. It's not fair. They're all tossers and madmen, and they... s _he_ hurt me, Remus.”

Remus doesn't answer. He knows Sirius as much as a human being can possibly know another, and, as he knows Sirius isn't expecting an answer, he also understands who _s_ _he_ is. There is one _sh_ _e_ in Sirius' world, his mother; and the faint yet abject terror behind it has always made Remus shiver. The boy's voice is slightly shaking, and tears are trailing down his cheeks, tears Remus has seen but once, mixed with pleadings and apologies he wouldn't listen to and he doesn't want to think of now. He grabs Sirius' hand and nods once. _G_ _o on, tell me, I'm here_. Sirius takes a deep, ragged breath and wipes the tears with the palm of his hand.

“- The day after Reg and I arrived, I was called to my mo... to... to her office. She made me sit down and spent half an hour reminding me all the rubbish she's tried to stuff my head with until I left for Hogwarts. You know, _Toujours Pur_ _,_ Muggle-borns and werewolves must be killed and basically the quintessence of Slytherin's stupid ideas. I stayed silent, mostly thanks to those breathing exercises you made me work on in second year. Anyway, she lectured me saying I had made her ashamed of me every single day since my Sorting, that she was extremely disappointed and that I would be locked in my room for as long as she deemed necessary. Kreacher was supposed to bring me food, but the little bugger obviously made a show of _forgetting_ half of the time, so I lived on Honeydukes' sweets for days on end. After almost two weeks, she let me out, and I spent a week and a half wondering if she was just going to ignore me for the rest of the summer, but she wasn't, of course, and Reg kept sending me strange looks as if he was trying to tell me something but he was too afraid to actually say it. And yesterday, she made me sit again, and she went on ranting about the shame I kept bringing on the Most Inbred and Rotten House of Black. And then she said I could _redeem_ myself, as if there was anything worth redeeming in the first place, but well. Anyway she spoke about this bloke that had been starting to appear in the _Red Wizard_ before the Ministry silenced them, you know, Voldemort?”

Remus nods. Yes, the four of them had noticed the news that had started showing up in the independent newspaper Peter has taken to read instead of the _Prophet_ , news of people wearing masks and saying exactly what Sirius' family keeps repeating, news of a powerful, powerful wizard no-one has seen yet but who is apparently starting to rally discontent Purebloods. News of a few conspicuous deaths, Half-bloods and Muggle-borns; deaths that have nothing in common but for the fact they reveal a scary patchwork of possibilities and outcomes, a looming darkness on the horizon. Yes, he knows enough of Voldemort to feel a icy shiver run down his spine. Sirius sees the nod, closes his eyes, runs a trembling hand through his ebony shoulder-length hair, takes a breath and carries on.

“- Well, she... Remus, she said she wanted me to join his ranks. She said he is gathering a circle of trustworthy followers, the Death Eaters, and that it would be the perfect opportunity for me to atone for the shame I have brought on the family with my _unnatural_ friendships in Gryffindor. I guess she still thought all I did and said for the past five years was more of an adolescent fling than actual rebellion.” He opens his eyes again and buries them in his friend's. “I said no, of course,” he adds quietly. “I said I would never ever join them, because they are fundamentally _wrong_. I said I would do everything to stop them, and that I could not bear the shame of belonging to such a horrid family. So she just rose her wand and... she Crucio'd me,” the last words escape in a whisper.

For a moment, Remus forgets how to breathe. For a moment, he forgets how to speak. He feels a deadly cold bubble of anger explode inside him, as well as the strong urge of wrapping his arms around Sirius and never let go. But Sirius doesn't want pity nor compassion; he is explaining as calmly as possible _what the hell happened_ , and for a few seconds Remus is at loss as for what to do.

“- Always knew your mother was a nutter; you just proved me right,” he says at last.

Sirius throws him a surprised look, but seems to be relieved and even lets escape a small laugh. A small gesture of the hand and he goes on with his story.

“- I screamed until my voice gave up. I couldn't get up, Moony. I thought I was going to pass out, but she knows where the limits are. And then, well, she basically lifted me, punched me in the face once or thrice while yelling something like _You are no longer son_ _of_ _mine!_ She let go of me and I summoned my trunk – I hadn't unpacked - and managed to walk out of this house of hell alone, telling her I wasn't ever going to come back so they'd better make Reg the heir right now. I called the Knight Bus and gave them all the money I had giving them James' direction and passed out. They woke me up telling me the money wasn't enough and I walked, but I supposed James told you that already. And that's all.”

Sirius' voice has been steady through the last part of the story, but his chin is wobbling dangerously, and water is pooling again in his eyes, so Remus has nothing left to do but open his arms and hug him, grab him like there's no tomorrow because he knows he's the only buoy in the storm Sirius is trying not to drown in. Sirius buries his head in the crook of Remus' shoulder and he lets go, and the sobs going through him are shaking them both in their violence and desperation.

“- Moony, it's not fair. I wanted to have the right to love them, Moony, I wanted to have a family like yours or Prongs'. Is it normal I somehow still love them a little, little bit? I mean, _s_ _he_ 's batshit crazy and but she's my Mum, I barely know my father but he's still my Dad, and Reg... and Reg is a stupid little brat who swallows everything he's told but he's my _brother_! It's not fair, Remus.”

 _No, it's not fair_ , Remus thinks too, because it isn't. He shouldn't have to answer that. He's a sixteen-year-old teenager holding another sixteen-year-old teenager against him, trying to protect him from a world that has already hurt them both, trying to think like an adult because it's easy to behave like a grown-up when everything's about chastising your best friends for being idiots but it's completely different when it's about protecting those you love.

“- No, it's not fair, Sirius. It's not fair you were born in a family where blood prevails upon love. It's not fair you didn't ever agree with them, nor is it that you had a conscience everybody around you has always tried to drown. It's not fair you went against their standards, and it's not fair they had standards at all.” He moves a bit so he can look at Sirius in the eyes. “It's not fair we had to be your family when everyone else did have a family at home, and it's not fair either we're the only family you're left. And yes, it _is_ normal you still love them, because it's not real love, Padfoot, it's the longing for love. Because love is acceptance and that's something they never gave you. But we gave it to you, because you _deserve_ it, Pads. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you had to go through this, I'm sorry you still have to, and I would kill them now if I could because they didn't have the right to hurt you like that. But I don't have answers, Sirius, and I'm as scared as you are, and I want to protect you but I can't so you'll have to do it by yourself. But you're not alone, because we're here with you, I am here with you, and I'm never letting you down.”

Silence descends on the room, only broken by Sirius' strangled breaths. He closes his eyes and lets escape a trembling, heartfelt sigh, and Remus can _feel_ the pain and the relief in it. And Sirius knows he's been forgiven, he knows the stupid words he threw to Snape five weeks and three days ago -he's been counting- have been erased, and that somehow this boy whose golden eyes have been a shelter since they were eleven has decided he was still worth loving and caring for.

He moves across the bed and pulls Remus in a tight hug, pushing him on the pillows propped against the headboard, and that's how they fall asleep, tangled limbs, hot breath on pale throat and mussed hair. And when Sirius is already on the brinks of sleep, he hears Remus' distant voice murmuring :

“It's okay, Padfoot. We'll be alright.”

And Sirius believes him.

 

 

 

 


End file.
